#kind of. in rough form rn.

[apocalypticdemon]

for the wip title ask game:

'the droning engine'

oh boy, this is my super self-indulgent fic, lmao. I've been super into IndyCar my whole life, as is the rest of my family, so it's my IndyCar AU for the Terror (with a focus on fitzier as the narrative drive behind it).

It's kind of unwieldy and a bigger project than I thought it would be, so it's still very much in the works/in the planning stages while i draft prose as it comes to me, but I've been poking at it in my free time. The basic premise is Crozier is an older driver, signed to team Terror, a smaller team, but one that generally is in good standing. He's got a really odd rivalry with Fitzjames, and this comes to a head at the start of the work, when the Terror management signs James on as a driver. Basically, the plot is going to stretch over the entirety of an IndyCar season, and I'm going to try to hit major plot beats from the show in this story as the characters all vie for the championship for the season. Some stuff gets changed around, just to make things work, but that's the general premise.

I have it planned for the final driver lineup for team Terror to be Crozier, Fitzjames, Silna, and I think Little, but that's still in flux. Hickey was on the team, but gets let go after publicly starting a fight with Silna and suffering the consequences, lol. He continues to scheme in the background as the season continues to unfold, because a different team snaps him up pretty quickly. Is it conventional for how drivers are passed around and contracts are signed? no, probably not, but I do what I want, lol.

I have plans for general plot beats, how I want to draw narrative similarities for things like the no good, very bad wardroom dinner from the first episode, carnivale, and character deaths in the show without...... actually killing anybody, because I can't really have that.

I want the vibes for the fitzier part of the story to be the kind of "they would absolutely fuck several times before actually talking about their feelings" kind of dynamic, so I think that's the route I'm going to take and have their relationship really blossom towards the end of the season, but i'm also still planning out the specifics of that one. I really like the added tension of a secret relationship, given that they're on the same team and that motorsports doesn't necessarily have the most.... open-minded audience (it's very fun being an unpatriotic queer person at these events. i am....... very much in the minority there), so I want to play with that a bit, too. I thought I had a neat and tidy plan, but it rather started crumbling in my hands when i sat down to actually try to write it, so I think I'm going to be wrangling this one for a bit.

but i'm very excited to actually get to it someday! i know this write-up is very rambly and a bit unhinged, but i truly have so many thoughts about it that it's hard to organize into a coherent, short summary, lol. I have a lot of personal history tied up in this, too, so it's hard not to just go on cool tangents about the sport. this project has taken a back seat as my master's work ramps up, since it's just.... so much bigger than i thought it would be. but i really want to work on it over this winter break, creative juices willing.

and as thanks for reading........... all of this rambling, lol, here's a snippet from my draft of the "birdshit island"-cum-team-dinner scene:

Francis is at the end of his patience with the man, at this point in the day, and snaps. “Why don’t you tell us all about that crash in Monterey, James? That one was rather spectacular, if I remember right.” Fitzjames sours immediately, frowning and gritting his teeth. Francis has exactly a half a second of deep satisfaction at the expression before Blanky viciously kicks him in the shins under the table. Francis winces and glares at him, leaning down to rub at the spot. It had hurt, damn it. That prosthetic leg wasn’t soft by any stretch of the imagination.

[idolomantises]

What inspired Sera's design? I've always loved her design and would love to know some of your thought process when you were making her

Originally she was actually going to be very human and a fallen angel. her dynamic was basically the inverse we have now. a very forward and sexual angel who tries to seduce a shy and social anxious succubus. (sorry this is the only concept art i have rn thats not uh, lewd. the comics were originally going to be a lot different and for a separate account)

but i lost interest in the concept since i'm more of an opposite attracts type, and i wanted to explore both environments (cant exactly explore heaven if your wife is rotting in hell).

So I went with a more typical "serious angel x sexual succubus" type, but then went, "what if she actually was the more intimidating looking of the two". succubi are meant to be sexy and approachable, so what if her girlfriend was fucking weird and scary. I had a rough sketch (which i cant find for some reason) where Sera is this just this massive rings of fire with a giant head/eye inside, but then I felt like it was... kind of boring.

which is funny considering ive had people claim that my current sera design is trying too hard to be "biblicly accurate" but i wasn't trying to be! I wanted it to be a mix of version depicted in biblical art AND more humanized form. I wanted a partner for lili to hold hands with. An angel design that felt unique. Sorry if the answer feels vague, I never really had a specific design in mind when drawing her.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Diet peach soup would probably have the celestials and Marshalls get involved a lot sooner. Overpowered babies are not a good idea to leave unsupervised. As for Macaque, the lady bone demon is most likely going to just shove him onto the thrall, as his problem. Either to be raised as her soldier, or as a potential backup vessel.

Prev.

Yeeeaah the Stalwarts have to get involved sooner than later since their king is now in his terrible twos (again). They present themselves to Pigsy and Tang as village elders who want to help them in raising the boys, and introducing them to their culture. Pigsy was eh on the idea, but Tang was uber excited! Monkey demon culture lessons!

Peaches and MK honestly thought that the Stalwarts were their grandparents for a long time, especially since they didn't know Papa Tang's side of family and assumed he was a just patchy-furred monkey. XD

Nezha, checking in on Wukong: "Why do I sense two baby stone monkeys- WHAT THE SCALLOP!?"

Peaches still gets his school bestie in the form of "Nez", albeit from an earlier age. Nezha can risk a mini-god running around without a voice of reason. Moksa tags in on his younger bro's behalf + as a kindness to Guanyin, as a "cool older kid" watching out for the little monkeys. The -Zha brothers want to keep Sun Wukong's condition as much as a secret as possible from the rest of the Celestial Realm.

Erlang takes one third-eye-look at the situation and goes "Ah crap, I'm gonna have to be their mentor." Cue an Athena and Telemachus dynamic developing between Erlang and the boys once they lift the Staff. But for now, he's Babysitter Jian - the only kid Pigsy and Tang have ever seen feed, wash, and entertain the little monkeys without so much as a grumble. (Jian, shrugs: "I have little cousins.")

Even the Peach Maidens who attended the Orchard with Wukong long ago ensure that he and his little brother are well-watched - glamouring themselves as a gaggle of old ladies in their favourite park. Always ready to pinch cheeks, give fresh fruit treats, and tell the boys how big they're getting!

The Thrall is currently reforming his body after Wukong slapped him across the country for stealing the Stone Egg (aka unhatched MK) + forcing him to drink some nasty potion (Meng Po's soup), so he's not much help in raising de-aged macaques rn.

Macaque accidentally dodges LBD by being a slippery little guy! Falls and crawls through so many shadows that its hard to keep track of him from the Underworld. Lives rough on the street for some time before ending up in the hands of someone who would truly care about him.

Sandy: "Aww. You're an odd little kitten aren't ya?" De-Aged!Macaque: (*spitting and hissing at the giant with all his might, violently protecting the cat food he found. Is barely the size of a football*) Sandy, gently picks up cub: "Hey hey... I used to be an angry little guy too. I learned that when a lot of people are upset, they're really just scared about something that hard to explain." De-Aged!Macaque: (*angry grumbles as he's picked up! Presses ears against fish man's chest to drown out the sound of the city*) Sandy: "Are your ears at you, little buddy? I can see why. One, two three... six ears! Thats a lot of earmuffs." De-Aged!Macaque: (*grumbling gets quieter. Absent-mindedly sucks on his fingers.*) Sandy, conflicted: "I... I really should just bring you to a police station or something. But something tells me that you'll need someone in your corner who understands how messy life can be. If I can manage it, would you be ok staying here with me?" De-Aged!Macaque: (*uninterested squeak*) Sandy, smile forming: "I'll take that as an Okey-dokey. Now... how about a name? Your white fur is super shiny in the moonlight... how about Moon?" "Moon": (*tares up at his new guardian with big violet eyes, one is milky and possibly blind. Makes a curious chirrup at the name.*) Sandy, heart-warming smile: "I think thats a winner."

Little Moon is a curious little guy. Not only because of his ears (the fish man jokes that it's his son's axolotl-like gills), but from an early age Moon has had control over shadows.

It began as simple fascination with stage magic. Moon watched stage magicians preform their tricks of misdirection and illusion, and wanted to see if he could replicate it.

Sandy: (*makes a bunny shape in the shadow of a lamp*) Moon: (*excited cheep!*) Moon: (*manipulates shadows to make many bunnies!*) Sandy, surprised: "Oh!"

Sandy was worried that this power wasn't something that could be trained easily, and an incident where Mo disappeared into one of Moon's shadows for an afternoon (reappeared unharmed once the treat bag was shaken) prompted the fish man to try and find an outlet for his kid.

Thats how he met The Nine Tailed Vixen. The elderly huli jing was hosting a children's acting class at her theatre, and Sandy wondered if it would aid his son's creative drive. It turned out to be a blessing since the heavenly fox was quick to identify, and help Moon tame his wild magic.

(Jiuweihuli is so relieved to have her protégé safe and sound again. Sandy is a good man, and she's glad that her little shadow has found a kind papa.)

Sensing a hunch, the old fox contacted Nezha on whether there wer other de-aged little monkeys...

Peaches and Moon meet during one of the acting camps. At first they cannot believe their eyes.

On sight they feel as though they've known the other their entire lives and beyond.

At the end of the day's acting camp, a group of old friends reunite.

Pigsy, with MK in a sling: "Sandy!?" Sandy: "Pigsy!" Peaches & Moon, running to their respective parent: "Baba!" Pigsy & Sandy, both surprised: "Baba!? You?!" "Yeah!" "Since when?" "Since I found him on the street!" "Whoa. weird."

Peaches and Moon are hard to separate after that meeting. Even if acting camp didn't turn out well for the ginger monkey (stage fright activated), they rarely go more than a week without an excited play date or visit to the theatre.

DBK's gut reaction to the young monkey demon holding his sworn brother's staff is; "Did Sun Wukong have a child- wait. What in Yama's name happened to you!?" Peaches doesn't answer the question as he nearly passes out screaming. Moon is half-way across town wondering what's scared his bestie so bad.

[reidsworld]

Scars of Time Chapter Two: Wild Horses

Summary: In which you met Logan for the first time.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem!Mutant!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: Use of Y/N, slightly ooc Logan?

Word Count: 1.1k

Song… Wild Horses by The Rolling Stones

Mars speaks… This was supposed to be so much longer and include a flashback to 2000 but I split it up into two chapters because I don’t have the motivation or time rn to finish the rest of the chapter. But I wanted to post this because I can’t leave you hanging! I love this song so much it’s insane.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | < Previous Part | Next Part >

1997

The bar was a relic of another time—dim, smoke-filled, and worn around the edges, much like the people who frequented it. It was the kind of place where dreams came to die, swallowed by cheap booze and the haze of cigarette smoke. Logan had been here before, or at least somewhere like it; they all blurred together after a while. A familiar escape, where the noise and violence drowned out the memories that clawed at his mind. The fights paid well, sure, but it was the pain he welcomed—the one thing that cut through the static in his brain.

He sat hunched over at the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey that tasted like gasoline. The crowd was caught up in the latest fight, their cheers and jeers forming a thick, desperate hum. Logan tuned it all out, his focus sinking into the amber liquid before him, searching for something—anything—he couldn’t quite name.

And then he heard it: a voice, clear and haunting, cutting through the noise like a knife through butter. It wasn’t haunting in the way that brought fear, but in the way that it didn’t belong—a beautiful melody in a place that had forgotten beauty. It wasn’t loud, not above the chaos, but it was sharp enough to slice through his thoughts. Logan turned, his curiosity getting the better of him. His gaze settled on a small stage in the corner, barely more than a rickety platform with a single microphone. And there you were, standing under the dim glow of the bar lights.

Your voice was low, with a melancholic melody that seemed to rise and fall like a whispered confession. The room seemed to shrink around you, your voice somehow filling every empty space. Logan’s grip on his glass tightened as he watched, unable to tear his eyes away. You didn’t belong here. Not in this place, not in this crowd. There was something different about you—the way you held yourself, the way your eyes seemed to scan the room as if searching for someone, as if your voice was searching for something too. It was a haunting reminder of what shouldn’t be here, yet here you were, an unexpected echo of something that touched the very soul.

When you sang, it was like peeling back a layer of yourself, revealing something raw and fragile. Logan could hear it in every note—the kind of sadness that only came from knowing too much, from losing too much. He recognized it because it was the same kind of weight he carried.

His body moved before his mind caught up, drawn to you like a moth to a flame. The crowd around him faded, the noise dulled, and all that remained was your voice—soft and evocative, like a gentle melody that lingered in the air. Logan found himself at the foot of the stage, closer now, close enough to feel the pull of you in his veins.

The song drew to an end, the last note hanging in the air, thick with emotion. The crowd applauded, but you barely noticed, your gaze locking onto his. Logan felt a spark of recognition—something old and familiar. You looked at him like you saw something in him that others didn’t, something even he wasn’t sure existed anymore.

“You’ve got a hell of a voice,” Logan said, his voice rough but genuine. “And great taste in music too. Wild Horses is one of my favourites.”

You smiled, a small, sad smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thanks.”

There was a pause, a moment suspended in time, the air between you charged with something neither of you could quite name. You were both searching, feeling out the edges of this unexpected connection, drawn to the pieces of each other that fit like a puzzle.

“I’ve seen you fight,” you finally said, your voice softer, almost like a confession. “You’re good. Really good.” Your gaze flickered to the dog tags displayed on his chest.

Logan shrugged, playing it off. “It’s just a job,” he muttered, his gaze flicking away for a second. “Pays the bills.”

“But that’s not why you do it,” you countered, leaning in slightly, your voice just above a whisper. “You fight because it’s what you know, isn’t it?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t deny it. “Maybe,” he said after a moment, his eyes meeting yours again. “But it’s enough.”

Your gaze drifted to his hands, fingers unmarked, skin unblemished despite the brutality of the fights you’d seen him in. “I saw your fight earlier… How are your hands already healed?” you asked, brow furrowing in genuine curiosity.

Logan’s smile faded, a shadow crossing his features. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he replied, his tone guarded, defensive.

You held his gaze, something unspoken passing between you. “I have a… gift too,” you admitted, voice dropping to a hushed tone. “I heal. Others, myself… doesn’t matter. I know what it looks like when someone’s wounds disappear like that.”

Logan’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he searched your face for… what? The truth? Understanding? He wasn’t sure. “So, you know what it’s like,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

He reached out his hand to help you down. You nodded, grabbing his hand, stepping off the stage to stand closer to him, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his skin. “I do. But it doesn’t make it any easier, does it?”

“No,” Logan said quietly. “It doesn’t.”

A silence fell between you, thick with the weight of shared secrets. You could both feel it—the pull, the spark of something deeper.

“I’m Y/N,” you finally said, breaking the quiet.

“Logan,” he replied, and your names hung in the air like a promise.

You leaned in a little, your voice a soft murmur. “Buy me a drink?”

Logan’s lips curved into a genuine smile, small but real. “Yeah,” he said, his gaze lingering on you, “anythin’ for a gorgeous girl like you.”

You moved to the bar together, side by side with his hand on the small of your back, two people finding a sense of peace amidst the noise. The night stretched on, filled with low conversations, sidelong glances, and the kind of comfort that comes from being seen for who you really are.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the dirty windows, and the world outside began to wake, you both felt it—something beginning, something worth holding onto. And for the first time in a long while, Logan didn’t feel quite so alone.

Mars speaks… (again) September is really busy for me but I wanted to give you guys something! Any and all feedback is always appreciated🫶

Tags… @annagraceevanss @jane-the-virgin0 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @paintlavillered @morganas-pendragons @lanabobana @inthetub @kellyxo1 @lillycore @twinky-wink @politicstanner @emiemiemiii @savy-luvs-dilfs @charlyrmv @rockerchick05 @londonbeachgirl @lefroggie @swthxrry @marifilue @th3mrskory

[ferida-kahlo]

♡ Hotline ♡

Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: You and Mikey have been casually seeing each other for a few weeks. After a late night text from him, you make the drunken insomniac executive decision of calling him back. Naughtiness ensues.

Or: the one where you and Michael have phone sex.

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, M/F. Minors DNI // PWP, P!rn With Feelings. Phone sex, flirting, teasing, sexual innuendos, dirty talking, mentions of oral sex (m. receiving), masturbation (m. and f.), sexual fantasies, role-playing scenarios, librarian k!nk, mentions of rough sex. // Blink-and-you-miss-it angst, alcohol use, mentions of insomnia, anxiety and self esteem issues.

Word count: 3.8k

Read below the cut OR on AO3

Notes: Reader wears glasses in this - don't look at me like that, it's integral to the plot 🙄

For the history nerds, the quote at the beginning is from the book "Fire from Heaven" by Mary Renault, about the relationship between Alexander the Great and his friend and lover, Hephaestion.

Enjoy! As always, likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated ♡

His feelings were confused; he wanted to grasp till Alexander's very bones were somehow engulfed within himself, but knew this to be wicked and mad; he would kill anyone who harmed a hair of his head…

… you yawned at the page you’d been reading (i.e., staring at without absorbing a single bit of information), before turning your head to the nightstand and seeing the clock mark 2:49 am.

“Good god”, you whispered, tiredly rubbing your face with one hand, while the other reached for the half-full glass of red wine keeping you company in your insomnia.

Technically, you knew drinking was the last thing you should be doing on a weeknight, when you were having a hard time falling asleep and were expected at work in the morning. But living alone was really not helping you behave like a responsible adult with bills to pay. So, you slowly sip your wine, read your book, and hope that eventually your brain will give up and allow you to pass out for at least a few hours.

Suddenly, your phone lights up with a text. Michael B., it says on the screen. A pang of excitement hits you, and you immediately scoff for reacting so earnestly to a text from a guy you’ve been with (not even biblically, just the daytime coffee dates that people with busy lives manage to pack into a crazy week) for a grand total of two times and less than two hours, overall. Not pathetic at all.

Still, you can’t help but reach for the phone.

Hey, I know it’s late and you probably won’t read this until morning, sorry. Wanna have dinner at that spot we talked about? I can pick you up at the office ;) – M.

You smile, and without really thinking, hit the call button.

He picks up quickly, an amused tone in his voice. “Well, I was not expecting that. What the hell are you still doing up, princess? No work tomorrow?”

You laugh. “God, I wish. I just can’t sleep. Haven’t had one of these nights in a while… my brain won’t shut up, even though I’m so tired I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck”.

“Ooof. That fucking sucks.”

“Yup.”

“Well, I’m glad to be your booty call in this desperate time.”

“Michael”, you laugh so hard you choke on some wine and must set the glass back on the table. “I really don’t think that’s what this is”.

“Oh, no?”, he feigns innocence.

“No…”, chuckling, you continue with the most sultry, mock-seductive voice you can muster “… a booty call is if I was like: Sooo, Mikey… are you, like, busy right now? Do you wanna… come over? I’m aaall alone…”.

You make sure to put particular emphasis on the word ‘come’ and Mike sounds like he is doubling over with laughter. “That was the worst proposition I have ever heard, no doubt”.

“Oh, yeah? Well, you’re officially off my booty call list. I don’t need this kind of negativity in my life.”

“Ah, shit… I fucked up now, didn’t I?”, you swear you can hear his grin from the other end of the line. And see the laugh lines that form on the corner of his eyes when he smiles genuinely, the rare but so cute nose crinkle that makes your belly flutter…

You would love to get a fucking grip, thank you very much, but the wine was making you incapable of keeping a level head in this flirtation.

“Well… all is not lost. Taking me out to dinner is a good start to redeem yourself. If your game is on point tomorrow, your booty call list status might be revised… in the not-so-far future”, you add, suggestively.

“Shit. Now the stakes are on. I gotta be on my best behavior tomorrow, then”.

“I don’t know about best behavior…”. You feel like slapping yourself for your lack of subtlety.

He chuckles. “So… you like them a little nasty, huh?”

You’re glad he can’t see you blush furiously. “Not like that… but I do like a man who isn’t afraid to… take what he wants. Respectfully, of course.”

“Of course… damn, girl. You’re getting me thinking about all sorts of things…”

“Well, you’re the one who started talking about booty calls. It’s technically your fault”.

“That’s fucking rich. I was being a gentleman, sent you a sweet text and all. Not a single sex reference!”, he says, proudly.

“Ok, that is true”, you concede, laughing softly. “Are you still at the restaurant?”

He sighs deeply. “Yeah… paperwork coming out of my eyeballs. I don’t even understand how the hell I organized this mess”. You hear rustling through the line, and imagine the mess of letters, invoices and bills that must be covering his office desk.

“That fucking sucks”.

“Word”. His chair squeaks loudly. “So… what are you wearing?”

You laugh. “You’re unbelievable”.

“What? I’m just trying to keep the conversation light, you know? Nobody wants to hear about my fuckin’ paperwork at 3 am”.

It was subtle, but you could sense something deeper in his words (sadness? self-deprecation?).

“I wouldn’t mind hearing about your ‘fuckin’ paperwork’ at any time of day, Michael”.

The line goes silent, and you fear you went too deep, too soon. Made this weird in record time, wow.

“I didn’t mean it like… I meant if you want to talk to me about your shitty day, you know, you can, but I don’t want you to be uncomf-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay sweetheart. I get it… thank you for that”, he says, softly. “Maybe some other time. Right now, I honestly just wanna forget about this for a little while... I was really pumped when you called”.

“That’s okay. Really?” You smile, relieved.

“Yeah, really. So… wanna make a guy happy and tell him what you’re wearing?”

With a chuckle, you concede. “Well, nothing. I’m in bed and I sleep naked, so… yeah”.

There’s a heavy pause. “Holy shit. Are you for real?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Jesus, fuck… baby, you can’t say stuff like that and expect me to be normal about it”.

You grin, having just decided that, actually, you wanna play dirty.

“Who says I want you to be normal about it? Besides”, you throw back, suggestively, “I hardly think a woman can be held accountable for what she says after four glasses of wine on a Thursday night… naked and alone, in such a big bed…”

“Now, see, that was a much better pitch for a booty call than the first o-”

“I’m gonna hang up.”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry”, he laughs.

“You’re an asshole”. Even as you say it, you’re smiling.

“And you are a minx, lady. Gettin’ a guy all worked up…”

“Oh, my... I don’t know what you mean…”, you whisper into the comforter, now balled up in your fist over your mouth, as if to cover up your blushing cheeks from an invisible audience.

“Oh, I disagree… I think you know exactly what you’re doing”. There’s a note of sarcasm in his voice you find exhilarating. A sudden noise – like a chair squeaking loudly on a panel floor – can be heard from his end. Followed by… a metallic rattle, more subtle but still clear. A… belt unbuckling?

Wait. Is he…?

You grin, amused. “Mr. Berzatto… I’m hearing suspicious noises. What is going on over there?”

A deep grunt. “Nothin’ much, sweetheart. Just making myself comfortable, is all”.

“And how exactly are you doing that, mister?”

“You know… freeing the junk.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Well, that certainly helps set the mood”.

“Hm… baby, can I ask you for something? It’s totally fine if you don’t wanna do it… but I figure I might as well shoot my shot.”

You notice you are sitting up very still against the pillows in your bed, holding your breath in anticipation. “Sure… what is it?”

A heavy pause follows. Your heart feels like it’s about to beat itself out of your ribcage, your throat feels dry, and your tongue sits heavy and thick in your mouth, the taste of wine suddenly overpowering your senses. And you are so horny.

“Could you… send me a photo of you right now? Are you wearing those new glasses?”. He sounds… eager, almost nervous with the way he trips over the second question.

Oh. Something clicks for you, then. You smile. “So, you really liked the new glasses, huh?”

“Shit… c’mon, don’t bust my balls about it”, he says, with an embarrassed chuckle of admission.

“I’m not! It’s very flattering, actually”. You hope you conveyed how much you are not making fun of him. However, you hate misunderstandings, and to dispel any that might be going on here, you decide there is only one acceptable solution.

“Give me a minute”, you tell him, determined. You don’t wait for an answer before you drop your phone and get to work.

Meanwhile, Mikey sits in his rusty office chair, in what he thinks must look like a very… undignified position. Cock out, right hand stroking it lazily, slumped back with his jeans barely down his ass, work shirt dirty and stinking of cooking oil, his entire body tense in a mix of anticipation and shame. A part of him can’t help but wonder if you are fucking with him: laughing from the other end of the line, leaving him hanging – literally and figuratively (he chuckles dejectedly at the realization that he still remembers something from high school Lit class). He guesses he would kinda deserve that. What type of freak asks for nudes after two… dates? Do those rapid-fire coffee-grabs even count? He is so shit at this. Anything more than a casual hook-up or a quickie behind a sleezy pub is rocket science for him. ‘Congrats, loser! You just fucked it, yet again’.

Then, his phone pings. 5 photos received.

In the first one, you are lying on your side, in bed, a dim warm light illuminating the scene. He can see the contours of your body clearly, despite being covered by a layer of nearly sheer white sheets. His gaze follows your exposed collarbone, to the silhouette of your breasts – he is sure you purposefully allowed a bit of side-boob to slip past the entrapment of sheets… just for him.

He swears he could stare at the shapes of your body all day and never get tired – or limp. His dick is throbbing painfully, now.

It does not get better when he sees the rest of the photos. Your face is visible, on those. The last two are his favorites. You are laying on your stomach, with the reading glasses on, as promised – except they sit lower on your nose than usual, so that your eyes peak out from over the top of the frames. Your hair is down, tousled and wild like it’s just gotten messed up. ‘Is this what she looks like after…’. You are holding a glass of wine to your mouth – lips plump and lightly tinged red – that detail drives him a little insane –, and in front of you lays a book, delicately held open with your other hand. And in the last photo, the sheets have slipped lower down your breasts, revealing a generous cleavage. You’re staring directly at the camera with an inquiring gaze, biting your lower lip. ‘Come get me’.

“… Mike? Are you still there?”

It’s been some time since you sent the photos (twenty seconds, which your anxiety tells you is actually half an hour), with no reaction from him. Your cheeks heat up, and you suddenly feel very silly and insecure. Are they even… good? What makes a good nude? Do these even qualify as nudes? You’re not showing anything super explicit… they’re suggestive, at best. Is he going to think you’re a prude? God, why is this so diff-

Mike clears his throat. “Yeah, I… fuck. Fuckin’ hell. Holy shit. Sweetheart… these are so hot. Jesus… thank you so much. You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous…”. The last part comes out as a whisper, like he’s starstruck.  

You didn’t know it was possible to get more flustered than you already were. “You’re welcome… I’m flattered I managed to make Michael Berzatto incoherent over some low-res thirst trap selfies.”

“Baby, these are genuinely the hottest pics I’ve ever seen. You look like a hot librarian or something”.

You laugh out loud, triumphantly. “Ah! I knew it!”

“What?”, he laughs along.

“Something you wanna share with the class, Mr. Berzatto?”.

“Fuck, don’t stop calling me that, sweetheart”, he says, sounding out of breath.

“Yeah?”, you whisper.

“Fuck, yeah. It’s just… I’ve got a thing for girls with a kinda nerdy, librarian type of vibe, you know? And when I saw you this last time, holding a book and wearing your reading glasses… I gotta admit, my mind went straight to the gutter.”

Interesting. “Really? What did you imagine then?”.

A pause. “I’m not sure you want to hear it… I don’t want you thinking I’m a pervert or something”.

You sigh. “Mikey, I just sent you near-naked photos of me. We’re having phone sex. We are two horny adults having fun. Besides…”, you switch your tone to what you hope comes across as faux innocence, “… I asked you about it. It is kinda my fault, right? I guess I was kind of… bad”.

“Oh, is that what’s happening?”. He chuckles, as if saying challenge accepted. “Alright, then. When I saw you like that for the first time, this image popped into my head, right? I mean, you looked like a really hot librarian. So, I started picturing you in that scenario, with big glasses and all – just like the photos you sent me… except you had your hair in a cute ponytail, and your lips were even redder with lipstick… and you were wearing fishnet stockings up to your thighs – fuck, you got such nice legs, baby –, and you had a pair of those… what are they called. Uh, kitten heels. Yeah. Fuck, your ass would look unbelievable like that. I mean, it is unbelievable, you know what I mean? When you show up at the restaurant wearing those cute little dresses and skirts, I feel my dick twitching in my pants… that’s how hot you are, baby… that’s how crazy you make me feel.”

His words were streaming out like an avalanche – a filthy stream-of-consciousness. Flash images of all the times you were together pop into your mind. He was always nice and polite to you, if cheeky – that was his personality, after all. You’d never felt disrespected or threatened around him. Maybe that’s why, now that you knew he had been actively thinking about you like this… you were very turned on.

“Too much, sweetheart? You wanna keep listening to this filth?”

“… yeah, Mikey. Keep going. What happened then?”

“Then, I took you to a hidden corner in the library, rucked up your pretty little skirt and ripped your real nice dress shirt open… you know, so I could suck on your tits while I fucked you hard against some shelves. Didn’t even need to rip your panties off, ‘cause you weren’t wearing any. Just lifted you up and slammed my cock right into your pussy… God, you were drippin’ wet for me, and you mewled so sweetly… loud, too. Had to shove my fingers into your pretty mouth to keep you quiet. That’s what I imagined, sweetheart. More or less.”

The crass and vivid way in which he described his fantasy made you speechless. It was exhilarating. Knowing that all those times he had talked to you with a straight face, he had been actively fantasizing about fucking you hard. His words.

“Jesus Christ, Mikey”, you breathe out. “That’s… I can’t believe we had entire conversations while you had a cheap porn flick playing in your head”, you laugh softly, unconvincingly.

He sighed deeply. “See, I knew this was a bad idea… honey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like shit. I guess I’m just a fucking perv-”

“Babe…”, you interrupt him, gentle, but firm, “shut up, please. I’m messing with you. I told you, it’s very flattering that you’re attracted to me. In fact… it’s super hot. Knowing you were having all those dirty thoughts about me while still being a gentleman… is making me feel all kinds of things, right now.”

“Yeah? What kinds of things?”

“Good things, Mikey… I’m so wet right now”, you mewl, the need for release in your core overwhelming the embarrassment you would be feeling otherwise. Without thinking, you kick the sheets away from your body and cup one of your breasts, kneading it and flicking your nipple – a moan leaves your mouth in a desperate plea.

“Fuck”, he whispers, “you got wet over that filth? Jesus Christ, baby. I won the fuckin’ lottery”.

You are burning with desire, and you can feel your pussy throbbing when you finally give in, sliding one hand down and shoving two fingers inside with barely any resistance. “Mikey… I wanna come so bad. Can you talk me through it… please?”

“Fuck… yeah, sweetheart, anything you want”. He moans, then, and you don’t think you have ever been so turned on in your life. Mikey Berzatto, a horny, moaning mess, jerking off in his mess of an office at 3 am… because of you.

Chicago’s Helen of Troy. You chuckled softly at the thought and decided to up the ante. “Baby… do you know what I was thinking when you were telling that beautiful story just now?”

He laughs, voice recked. “What, baby?”

You pout, and add another finger in, increasing the pace of the thrusts. “I wish you had pictured kissing me real hard, while I unbuckled your belt… would you let me get down on my knees for you, baby? I really wanna have you in my mouth, Mikey, like, right now”. Your words come out broken, sentences all messed up – you sound pathetic, but you are so past caring.

“Shit-”, a gasp, followed by a deep breath and the noise of something hitting a surface really hard. “… holy shit. Baby, I imagined all that and a whole lot more – seriously, you have no idea. Hell, if the lady wants to suck my dick, who am I to deny her, uh? Fuck. Would you let me fuck your mouth, baby…?”

You moan loudly at that and realize you need both hands, putting the phone on speaker – fuck the neighbors – and bringing your other hand to your clit, rubbing lightly, but fast. You were so close. The thought of kneeling on the floor, clothes and hair all messed up from Mikey’s hands, lipstick smudged… looking up at him, and watching his composure unravel because of you…

“Hm… yeah, Mikey, I think I would… ‘cause you’re so nice to me… such a gentleman, even when you’re fucking me hard… would you ask me real nice, baby? Hold my face gently in your big hands, while you fuck it?”

“Fuck, baby… I would treat you so right, you deserve everything-”, he chokes up and, for a few moments, you hear a distant cacophony of noises, like he’s put the phone down. Then, he’s back. “Sorry, sweetheart, I need both hands now”, he chuckles.

You giggle, “Me too… you got me so hot I’m fucking myself on my fingers and rubbing my clit at the same time… and it’s still not enough. I need you…”

“Fuck, that’s so hot. You fuckin’ yourself because of me… I know it’s not enough, baby… you need my cock, don’t you?”

“Yes! Mikey… please…”, you howl, completely out of your mind.

“How do you want me to fuck you, baby? Hm? Want it nice and slow? Nah… I think you like it fast and rough, don’t you? Long as I keep kissing you real good, touchin’ you real gentle, all over your body… you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”. How he manages to say such filthy things with so much honey dripping from every syllable, is beyond you.

“Yeah, fuck, baby… it doesn’t matter. I’m so wet already, you don’t need to do anything else, just hoist me up in your arms and pin me against the shelves… and shove it in me”.

You are still holding onto a shred of decency because you blush at your own crass admission – still, there is clearly not a whole lot left, as you start rubbing your clit and fucking yourself harder and faster. “I don’t want you to be gentle when you fuck me… I just need to feel your cock stretch me open… wanna feel the sting of it for days, be at work and not be able to focus because all I can think about is how you fucked me so good-”

At this point, you have no idea if he can understand anything you’re saying, because your words are intercut with moans and gasps and mewls and incoherent babble, as you’re about to reach your peak imagining Mikey’s on top of you, railing you into the bed.

“Baby, I’m gonna come… fuckin’ Christ”.

“Mikey- fuck!”.

Your body shakes and your eyes roll back from the strength of your orgasm. Distantly, your brain registers a broken string of moans and curses from the other end of the line.

A few seconds pass, and you feel yourself coming back down to Earth. You lazily stretch out on the bed, completely relaxed and fucked out. “That’s so cute… we came at the same time, babe”, you happily whisper, a ditsy smile on your face.

He huffs, amused “Yeah… what can I say? I’m a romantic at heart”.

You laugh sincerely. “This was… so good, actually. I’m glad I gave into my instinct and called you”.

“Well, I’m even more sticky now”. You both laugh at that. “But I’m also glad you called… like, really glad. Uh, can I ask you something?”

You notice a shift in his voice.

“Yeah… what is it?”

“I don’t want things to get weird between us after this… Like, I don’t want you to feel like you need to do all these things to get me off. You know what I mean? It’s just a fantasy… I’ll have you in any way you want me. Okay?”

You feel a tightness in your chest, and you wish, not for the first time tonight, you had him right in front of you so you could kiss him all over and hug him.

“Mikey… I genuinely liked tonight. And the more we talk, the more I like you. You’re not the only one who feels like you won the lottery…”.

“Baby… you’re too sweet. Don’t you think you already got me blushing enough for one night?”

“That’s fucking rich. I must’ve gone through all shades of red tonight, because of your filthy mouth”.

“Please. You loved it”, he chuckles.

“Yeah, I guess I did”, you concede, with a smile.

After saying goodbye – and confirming that yes, you would very much like for him to pick you up and take you to dinner later – you fall asleep fast, your mind finally catching up to the pleasant tiredness in your body, a soft smile on your lips.

[mrsoharaa]

(Because I didn’t just have some decent wine myself a few minutes agooo…and I’m not a wine person lmao)

But I’m thinking about civilian neighbor! Reader who invites Miguel over graciously for a simple glass of wine and friendly dinner. Things go so smooth, generous conversations, kind offerings to prepping the appointed meal (you refuse his help since he’s technically a guest, but with Miguel being well— Miguel, he stubbornly insists that he helps you in some sort of way)— about three glass of wines in, and reader starts to get giggly and giddy. Miguel, of course finds it adorable and luring. The sweet, soft tone of your candied voice entrancing his brittle heart. Butterflies swarm within his chest and stomach, the cute wrinkles that highlighted your distinguished features immediately capturing his entire attention. Hearts almost practically forming in his radiant pools of soft sable. And god, don’t get me started how tense the man gets when the gentle touch of your right hand softly taps at his broad shoulder, gradually lingering down to the length of his flexing bicep.

That man is on edge. Fighting back every elusive thoughts and hounding admiration to consume his slightly hazy mind. Bites his lips generously as he watches the glimmering smile you contort into, feeling the heavy weight in his chest become that much more weighty and overwhelming.

And when you suddenly loose some bit of balance, while sitting on your couch (you lean a little too forward closer towards him), you find yourself holding yourself up by the bulging muscles of his firm arms. Your dazed irises meet his own, a staggered breath catches tightly at the back of your throat. The eye contact between you both intensifying. The soften touch of his wide, rough hands subtly holding your leaning weight, pupils dilating with such pliant tender and lulling attraction.

But yeahhh, that’s where my mind is rn lol

[fenicearts420]

Guess who's been reading, "You're new TV headed roomate!"? :D

(Warning! Contains some spoilers!)

So, as a normal person who's favorite SMG4 character is Mr. Puzzles, I've been reading a few Mr. Puzzles x reader fics, and this one is just amazing! The writing for every chapter feels like actual episodes from the show and everyone having different nicknames for Insert is really nice. And, after reading the recent chapter, it's actually given me some inspiration to draw my self-insert interpretation of them. When working on this, I saw @bovinewriter's canon design for Insert and a few other posts of theirs saying it's more of a base design for open interpretation, so I kept the main aspects of the canon design (horns, hairstyle, and jacket) then added my self-insert spin onto it. Also, my original interpretation for the two halves was each one was a different color that mixed together to form the main color Insert wears, but then I thought, "What if the two halves and pre-split Insert each wore one of the secondary colors?", so I went with that instead.

Left

Left is the more serious, albeit, more depressed half.

They are patient and cool-headed, with some exceptions.

During the split, they kept the dark and cool-colored aspects of their original outfit since they're the rational, logical, and more pessimistic half of Insert. They also have pants instead of shorts because it's more professional (in their opinion).

Right

Right is the more impulsive and animated half, so to speak.

They are optimistic and loyal, in their own way, and tend to go with the flow in certain situations.

They kept the lighter/warmer aspects of their original outfit since, despite their choice after the split, their intentions really are wholesome and they want nothing more than to bring out their insane, TV-headed man's good nature. How sweet.

I don't have an exact idea of what my interpretation of Insert before the split would look like, but this is a rough idea I drew up, which (at the time of writing this) looks kind of similar to Opossol's character, Eliza. That was not my intention and I apologize. Go check out their stuff, it's great! Also, go check out their Creative Control animatic on YouTube. It's awesome! The 2D and 3D elements blend beautifully with each other.

Anyways, I just wanted to share this for funsies and also promote bovinewriter's fic. If you're looking for a good Mr. Puzzles x reader fic, I highly recommend this one, especially if you want one that makes you feel like you're in an actual SMG4 episode. Btw, I'm cooking up another Mr. Puzzles related thing rn that I'll, hopefully, be able to finish and release before the end of the year because I really wanna finish it and make it good before my hyperfixation runs dry and it becomes other unfinished project, slowly gathering dust. Y'all have a great day!

[banj0possum]

Heyo! Hope you're doing alright! Firstly, sorry if this is too long... summary: yan oc reactions to male/gn reader with a high pain tolerance whose platonic affection language is rough housing (biting , headbutts, body slams/shoulder bumps, aggressive bear hugs, or a good grip/squeeze. All of these forms of affection are done by reader with as much force as is allowed without actual damage and which reader happily reciprocates). Bonus, what're the reactions of rough housing intolerant yans when said reader starts trying to find someone else as an outlet for this affection need. Context: I saw the mini react to the affectionate chair wielding and had a thought. I am a very energetic and affectionate individual with folks I'm close with, and often times a gentle hug or soft touch just isn't enough to get across the energy and emotion or i just NEED something more grounding/comforting cause "yes this gentle hug is comforting my stress a little but i really REALLY need you to crush my soul and being back together with this next hug. Really trash compactor my body so i can feel whole again :) 💪". It's what i grew up with and what some of my friends encouraged/reciprocated (have definitely popped backs when giving each other hugs and once i popped someone's fingers when i was allowed a good squeeze). When soft affections aren't hitting right (and i have permission from my friend) I tend to turn to play bites (at whatever maximum safe pressure is allowed by the person being bitten), headbutts, body slams/shoulder bumps (again, at a maximum safe force that is allowed), and harsh grips/hugs (again, whatever maximum safe force is allowed). It's really a grounding/comforting thing cause it allows me and my friend to destress, release energy, and also kinda reassures us that we're truly physically and emotionally there. It's definitely not something for all my friend circles and i usually turn to my high energy friend circles that have similar needs (and they come to me if they feel the urge as well). A good example is the time Friend A saw me out and about, shouted out my name and charged me full speed from 30 feet away. I tanked the brunt of their full body affectionate tackle and honestly? Was one of the happiest and closest i felt to my friend. Haven't done that in a while cause we got warned not to do that again by personnel lol. We usually try to meet up at parks (cause indoor places understandably don't like when a group of adults start rough housing) though it's hard to rn cause of the heat and stuff

OCs w/ a Rowdy Darling

My OCs x GN Reader

THIS IS LITERALLY AMAZING !! you seem like a really cool person to hang out with ! id definitely let you give me a back popping hug >w< not sure if im strong enough to give you a hug as strong as that though hehe ^^" anyways heres the fic ! (´ ∀ ` *)

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Adrian is literally the same as you. Every shove or punch or rough housing is a sign of affection.

You two probably rough house all the time ngl, and he loves it!

You're his energetic little lover and he's all for it!

You two might have gone to detention for rough housing to hard a few times hehe..

If you bear hug him, he'll try to hug you harder, it's like a competition to him!

Honestly, he sees everything as a competition. You push him playfully? He'll push you harder.. headbutts? You might get a slight headache after he's done..

He might be your boyfriend, but he's still a bit of a bully, but it's all in good fun! He stops if ever he notices you're getting uncomfy.

Not a biter though, but when you do it, he melts like putty!

He loves how strong and rowdy you are and that you're not afraid to express it, it shows how tough and confident you are!

He likes his gentle moments once in a while, but being able to love you in a love language you both share is so special to him <3

"Cmon babe! One more hug! I can take it!"

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Brandon is kind of impressed..

He's one of the best football players in his school and his little darling is biting and shoving and headbutting him, so adorable!

You remind him of a little goat, so excited and happy and lively!

Definitely makes him more protective of you because of how precious you are to him.

If you get to rowdy for his liking, he grabs you and traps you in a bear hug until you calm down or if you give him an even tighter bear hug than the one he's giving you.

Invites you to play a bit of football with him and his team.

But protection is key! He wraps you in all sorts of gear before you play, he knows how high your pain tolerance is but he still wants to keep you safe! and also he likes seeing you wear his helmet

Your body slams are praised not just by him but by his team, it's too cute!

If he catches you being your little rowdy self around anyone else, he'll get jealous fast..

He shoves you affectionately to get your attention.

"Heya baby! How's my little ram doing huh?"

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Valeth just thinks you're copying him in a way and is flattered.

Aweee, little mate is so strong and tough! He's so proud!

Encourages the behavior, as long as you don't hurt yourself!

He's much stronger than you so your affections don't do much, but you bet your ass he's putting his whole soul in pretending to get hurt.

Rough houses with you as if you were a little child play fighting, he loves playing with his little warrior!

If you do get hurt, he's putting all play fighting to a halt! He's checking up on you and making sure you're ok with the softest voice you've ever heard from an orc.

You might be fine but he's not taking no for an answer, you're getting some rest!

Love love loves your bearhugs! He tests your strength and lets you squeeze him as hard as you can!

Biting is met with kisses all over your face, it's what you get for being so cute!

Body slams are more like you latching onto him and trying not to fall off because of how large he is..

"Oh my little duckling can bite! How fierce! You're so strong haha!"

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Bo appreciates how energetic and lively you are, but please no rough housing ;-;

He doesn't want you to get hurt or hurt anyone else, even though you're perfectly capable of regulating how rough you can me, he's just a lil protective is all

He only allows bear hugs and squeezes, anything else is greeted by the time out corner (him trapping you in his arms in the bed until you give up)

"Now now hun, not so rough ok? I don't want you gettin banged up or anythin.."

Ribs is also a feral little man and absolutely loves that you're as rowdy as him!

You two love play fighting and biting affectionately!

He loves your headbutts! he returns them all the time

"Ahahaha! Again again!"

Soda tolerates it, he just appreciates that you're comfortable enough to rough house with him.

He's not the energetic type but he'll give you sleepy kisses and squeeze you back if you bear hug him

Doesn't bite but he likes nibbling on you

He's not as lively as you, but he loves reciprocating your affection!

"You're so strong hehe~"

Screw is scared

He is oddly aroused

He's also hopelessly trying to stop himself from called you sir or daddy or any dominant title because oh my god you are so awesome

He's looking at you with puppy dog eyes asking for your love and attention

PICK HIM UP TOSS HIM AROUND SHOVE HIM BITE HIM PLEASE HE LOVES IT!

Imagine him kicking his legs and rambling about you to the others

"H-hello si- dadd- (Y/N)! Hi (Y/N) heheh.."

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Wolfie loves how rowdy you are! he loves playing!

That's his way of telling you he loves you, but of course he's extra gentle when playing with you, he wouldn't wanna get his mate scratched up!

Loves rolling around and playing around with you, it makes him feel like a pup again!

Doesn't like you biting him though, you might get something icky in your mouth!

Licks you all over if you get hurt or get a little too rough to make you feel better!

Headbutts are rewarded with his big paws bopping you on the head like he's trying to pet you!

If he's tired and you're being your lively little self, he just takes you and sleeps on top of you so you can't escape.

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Dorik actually has a lot of brothers and sisters back in hell and you remind him so much of how they used to play around with him.

As much as he adores cuddling you close and doing gentle and calm things with you, he loves how tough you are!

Yes he moans when you bite him.

Everytime you're affectionate with him, he can't help but kiss you all over, you're just so cute!

Almost cries if you give him bear hugs, this man is touchstarved!!!!

He gives you his own love by wrapping his tail around you or rubbing his face into your clothes, chest, hair, anywhere! He loves how you smell so good everyday!

Shrieks if you body slam him, but somehow he's as solid as a rock, he didn't even stumble..

But he's all over you asking if you're ok.

"Master? My love? My darling are you alright?!"

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Kalva unfortunately doesn't like rough-housing, he's made it a rule that you can only mess around outside the nest!

But he adores your bearhugs and headbutts and bites, they're comforting to him in a way, it shows that you're close to him!

He headbutts you too, it's his way of asking for your love and attention.

For a while it was also how he kissed you since he didn't know how to do it properly yet.

He might indulge in your rough ways sometimes by jumping around and messing up his feathers on purpose, but you should promise to help preen them afterwards!

Nevertheless, he loves you to bits and just wants to keep you safe <3

"My mate is so excited! My mate is happy!"

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Jasper is scared for his life but in a fun way.

He never knows the next time you're gonna bite him or tackle him into a hug, it's like a game for you both.

He gets you back by surprise tickling you, it's pretty effective.

If he expects the biting, he definitely bites you too, kissing the area right after for extra measure.

Don't get me wrong he's absolutely flustered whenever you do it, but he gets used to it after a while.

But no rough-housing with him! He's fragile and might break something.

Legit asks you to crack his back if ever he's having back aches.

"Hey love, my back's a little weird again, can I get another hug~?"

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Viktor is surprised and a little intrigued.

Oh? My darling is so energetic, I love it!

If you ever try anything on him, he chuckles and 'punishes' you with kisses all over your face and cuddles you until you give up.

Your bites kind of freak him out

Like he's supposed to bite people! It's kind of weird having people bite him, it's a bit exciting..

"My my~ Is my little bat misbehaving again~?"

Garrick doesn't tolerate roughness at all.

You might get hurt! What if one of them reciprocates the affection and goes too far? He's not having it!

That is until you do it to him and he absolutely melts at your cuteness.

He goes from strict to 100% on board with your love bops

Refuses to bear hug you, he might break your spine because of how much he loves you!

"Remember to be careful my turtledove! And I love you!"

Silas is all in on your rowdiness, considering he's like that himself.

He's a mischievous little shit and loves play fighting with you.

Loves picking you up and spinning you around, making you hold onto him as you two giggle like young lovers together.

Always does this thing where he cups your face and shakes your head side to side, he says its because you're too cute and your face must be a mask because no one is that perfect!

Gives you gentle and soft kisses after your rough moments because he wants to make sure he didn't hurt you. He feels the need to remind you always how much you mean to him and how happy you make him feel.

"My little owl, so cute, so adorable~ I'll never leave you Darling~"

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Baron tries his best to keep you calm but you're just to fuckin adorable!

He's a cold hard assassin! Why is he smiling over weak little attempts to hurt him?!

Scolds you for rough housing but his heart breaks if you pout or if he hurts your feelings

Immediately says sorry and holds your hand tight to show he still loves you, he just doesn't wanna see you potentially hurt yourself.

If you're rough with anyone else, he's pulling you off and dragging you away whilst holding you in the tightest bear hug, his actions screaming out 'you're mine!'

Of course he denies it all, saying excuses like 'what if they think you wanna pick a fight?'

But you know he's just jealous that you're not giving him that attention.

Still doesn't tolerate bodyslams or bites but bear hugs, headbutts and squeezing his hand are highly appreciated. Highly

"How about we settle down now boss hm~? I'll run you a nice hot bath if you'd like~"

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Caspian is a wimpy little bitch and gets upset if you play fight with him.

He'll start whining for you to stop but like also whine if you stop giving him attention. (little shit)

Lives for your bear hugs! SQUEEZE HIM HARDER PLEASE!!!

Headbutts make him dizzy and otherwise just confused but he appreciates it and thinks you're trying to kiss him.

He'll pull you close and show you what a real kiss is like~

Bite him and he's flustered.

Like about to have a stroke and can't form a complete sentence flustered.

"Ohohoh~ Oh my~ H-how fascinating~!"

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Hallow loves playing! Wait what are you doi-

Gets the message (i think) and starts to play fight with you too, chasing you around the house and wrapping you up in his long arms to tickle you all over!

Pretends to be a scary monster and nuzzles his face into you once he catches you, imitating eating. That's what you get for trying to fight the big spooky Hallow!

Your headbutts and affections make him so happy he starts jingling from how much he's trying to hold back.

He loves roughing you up a bit too, but his little bops aren't so strong since he's made of cotton and love <3 <3 <3

If you're getting a bit too rough, he wraps you up and kisses you softly before letting you go once you calm down.

"You tired from lovin on me all day sweetie~? It's alright, I got a looooootta lovin left for you~!"

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Ashvan is terrified!

On one hand eeeeee so cute! He wants to return your affections so bad!!!

But also you might die???

He's a big guy, and he's aware of his size and strength, so he's pretty wary on how he handles you.

You're like a little porcelain doll to him! He'd be so sad if anything happened to you just because he wanted to express his love to you!

He loves your bops, but giving you a warm smile and a kiss is all he can do really.

He makes up for it in giving you gifts, helping around the infirmary, cuddling you at night, the little things.

He wished he was more gentle so he can do the things you do to him! He so wishes to hug you as hard as he can!

"S-so cute...I-I mean so uhm..strong and fierce haha! So not adorable and precious in every way possible! Yeah.."

[greg-montgomery]

Okay so absolutely loving your writing sm <3

So I had this idea while, of course, scrolling down the aaron x reader tag so like you dont have to write it if you dont want to but i wanna throw this out here bc otherwise itll stay stuck in my brain

But like reader who is just,, incredibly shy? Like in social situations they put up a front and you would never expect them to be shy because theyre very present and speak up often despite almost blending in the background when quiet. But its a whole other story at home and such?

Like, Aaron notices and first thinks theyre uncomfortable with him but he slowly realizes that this is like, their love language ig and showing vulnerability? Quiet time, acts of service and such yk? Like, they always put up a front and to drop that (not entirely ofc but a decent amount of it) is just the highest form of trust bc theyve been ridiculed for being shy? And the shyness is much more present in the bedroom, especially when he praises them they just get even more shy and hes just so so gentle :(( like asking if theyre okay, going slowly and asking to see them when they hide their face but never forcing them to and just like praising them when they do and the praise kink of them just sticks its head up and its just the purest form of being together? Like, its not rough but gentle and its soft and theres really no other word than making love for it and its all just :(( and the aftercare the man would provide is just AHHH😭❤️

Oh dear im so sorry but i got sucked into the fandom and got obsessed by hotch and then your writing so- this is so long so imma shut up now but i just needed to throw it out there tbh before id explode from all the hotch ideas i have in my mind that im not writing myself or giving to any writer bc what if they think the ideas are weird or too long like rn- but anyway imma shut up have a nice day/night and hydrate <3 (also you might see more of me if you dont mind long ass rants in the middle of it like this one- if you do mind just tell me to shut up im not gonna be mad or anything <3/srs)

-🧽

my sweet sweet 🧽 anon <33 this took me a while to write i'm sorry!! i hope you've been well!! i think about you a lot and i haven't forgotten the kind words you had sent to me <3 i hope you enjoy this!! (and ofc i don’t mind long rants i LOVE talking about aaron <3333)

nsfw - minors dni

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Can I, honey?” you heard Aaron’s words as he wrapped his hands around your wrists.

You had been covering your face as you usually did when your boyfriend went down on you. After making you finish, Aaron had made his way up again, urging you nicely to look at him.

With a nod of your head, you gave him permission to gently remove your hands from your face.

“There you are.” He smiled at you.

“Hi,” you said, softly, unable to keep yourself from smiling a little.

“Hi,” he answered, just as softly. “Do you wanna taste yourself, baby?”

“Mhm…” You nodded, staring at his chin instead of his eyes.

Your own eyes closed involuntarily, as he lowered himself and his lips touched yours. You opened your mouth, allowing his tongue to touch yours. Knowing where that tongue had been before it was inside your mouth, made you even more excited for what was coming next.

Aaron placed his hand on your hip, giving it a squeeze and then moved it down your thigh, wrapping your leg around his body. “Open them wider, sweetheart.”

Only a few moments later, Aaron was inside you, rocking his body against yours, in a pace slow enough to be considered both romantic and tormenting.

“Ah…”

“Good?” he breathed heavily on your mouth.

“So good…”

“I love you,” he moaned, his face now buried in the crook of your neck. He left open mouthed kisses on your sensitive skin after every little whine of yours. “I love your body. I love the sounds you make. I love the way you take me like you were made for me.”

“I was,” you sighed, because you really were. There was no man in the world you’d let yourself be this vulnerable around, other than Aaron. Your Aaron.

[buckysgrace]

Hiii, omg ur taking requests?? i LOVE ur writing sm aghh 😍😍❤️❤️ would u write part 2 to think about me? i adored it sm maybe the reader is sick (she has a fever and really bad cough) but is very horny so she calls gator who’s at work rn but he promises he comes as soon as he can? also her relationship with gator is secret and he comes over when her parents are gone with her little brothers for the weekend and gator takes care of her and also she’s so clingy? <3 and when she vomits in front of him she cries and is so embarrassed…

Part two to Think About Me (but could be read as a standalone lol)

Hope you enjoy! And thank you for enjoying my writing!! <3

CW: Age gap (reader is 20, gator is 27), mentions of smut but no actual smut, Gator being very sweet does that count??

Your relationship with Gator was, surprisingly, nice. He was sweet, brought you pretty flowers and your favorite chocolates. He messaged you first thing in the morning and before you went to bed. He was perfect. You were both perfect. Other than the fact that it had to be hidden.

Your father had made that clear on your birthday. The Tillman's had been invited over and apparently there had been enough tension between you and Gator to raise suspicions from your parents. Suddenly you were too young, too naive to have a boyfriend. You thought it was ridiculous.

You were excited for this weekend, having many things planned out for you and Gator. Your entire family would be gone. Some out of state football game happening for one of your brothers. You had feigned sickness.

Only that had seemed to be your downfall as the early Saturday hours slowly drifted into the afternoon. Your cough worsened, becoming more severe as your cheeks grew hot and sweaty. You brushed it aside, sure that it was your hard work from cleaning so furiously.

"Hello," The raspy voice on the other end of the line drew out playfully, bringing a smile to your lips as you sniffled again, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," You said quickly, already hearing the worry in his tone, "Just some allergies. Do you think you could bring me something when you get off of work?"

"What kind of somethin'?" He teased, making you shift deeper into the couch as a giddy feeling spread through you. It was almost enough to make you neglect the sense of sickness you'd felt.

You thought of the habit he had to sneak into your room when everyone else was asleep, of all the sweet nights you'd had together. He liked kissing you. He liked kissing you everywhere. You were tingly at the thought once again.

"Don't know," You giggled softly as you curled up on the couch, smiling as you felt a rush of pleasure form between your legs at his words, "Something to make me feel better."

"I got the perfect cure for ya, baby doll," He teased, making you feel like you had thousands of butterflies spreading through your stomach, "Can you last a few more hours without me?"

"Mhm," You drew out softly, excited as you glanced back towards the kitchen. You had a crockpot full of chili on and had plans to make cinnamon rolls once he got closer. He liked those, especially when you added raisins to them, "I'll be waiting here for you."

Your plans became even more disrupted as your symptoms grew worse. You piled under blankets and blankets, unable to stop shivering despite how hot your face was. Every time you began to doze off your rough coughing awoke you, your lungs burning from the sensation.

"Hey," Gator's voice awoke you this time around, making your eyes snap open as you quickly sat up. He guided you slowly, holding onto your shoulders as you glanced at the time, "You alright?"

"I overslept," You wheezed out, sighing as you began to couch roughly once again, "Sorry. I was gonna make cinnamon rolls and-," You began to stand but gator gripped your shoulders and quickly sat you back down. You nodded your head, feeling like the house was spinning a little bit.

"You sick?" He mumbled as he brought his palm up against your forehead, then dragged it against your cheeks. You mumbled, shrugging your shoulders, "Where's the thermometer?"

"Um," You paused as you thought about it, "It's in the kitchen drawer. The second to the left." You said, sure of your answer. It hadn't been too long since you had to use it on one of your brothers.

Gator paused, pulling his paper bag open for a moment before he handed you a bag of cough drops and some nighttime cough syrup. You wrinkled your nose, thinking about how disgusting it would taste. You were still grateful though.

He gripped your chin softly with one hand when he approached again, then used the other to slide the thermometer under your tongue. You stared up at him, admiring the concentrated look on his features.

"Bite down," He instructed, making you blink in surprise before you did as he asked. He smirked a little, looking a little cocky as he flicked his eyes from your features and back to the numbers on the screen. He whistled, making your eyes snap up to him, "I'm gonna get you something to bring that down." He mumbled, shaking his head as he walked into the kitchen again.

"I made us chili," You replied, feeling like it wasn't that big of a deal to have a little fever, "I thought we could watch a movie. I got new pajamas too."

"You did?" He approached again, wearing a smile this time as he placed some pills in one of your palms and a glass of water in the other, "Drink that." You nodded along, doing what he instructed in hopes that you would feel better.

"I wanted it to be a good night," You replied, doing your best to keep from pouting as he unwrapped a cough drop for you next, "Thanks." You said softly as you popped it in your mouth, sucking on it a few times before you began to chew on it. It was a habit. You couldn't help it.

"It still can be," He mentioned offhandedly, as he brushed his fingers across your cheek, "I'll get us chili. You sit here. Uh, here." He paused as he handed you the remote, sending you a soft smile before he went on his way.

Your stomach twisted at the thought of food, so you set your bowl aside and curled up against him instead. He held you close, keeping his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he pulled you in tightly.

Your felt a little better curled up to his side, head resting against his shoulder as you drifted in and out of sleep. He was warm, giving you that comfort you needed as he held onto you close. Occasionally you'd hear him chuckle, which you hoped had to do with whatever he was watching and not the fact that you were sure you were snoring.

A cold sweat woke you up this time, making you pull away from Gator as your stomach twisted and turned in odd directions. You glanced at him for just a moment, noticing that he had somehow slipped into his sleep clothes at some point.

"You alright?" He asked as he brushed his palm across your back, rubbing softly as a bitter taste filled your mouth. You felt your eyes widen as you quickly stood, tripping over your own feet as you stumbled into the bathroom.

You made it just in time as you emptied the contents from your stomach into the toilet. You continued to gag for a moment, wishing that you could've shut the door first.

You felt his hands on your back before you heard his sweet reassurances. You held onto the counter for a moment, trying to catch your breath as you suddenly felt hot tears against your cheeks. This was not how you wanted your night with him to go.

"Hey," His voice was soft and warm, smooth like sugar as he continued to rub at your back. It was a little too hard, like he didn't know what he was doing, "It's alright. Just a little puke." He replied, like it was no big deal.

You wiped your mouth, sniffling as you flushed the toilet and sat back on your knees for a moment. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, listening to the sound of gagging from next to you.

"Fuck," Gator replied as he held his palm over his mouth, shaking his head quickly, "I'm sorry. Shit. Fuck, I'm fine. Really." He nodded his head, but looked a little pale as he rubbed at your back.

"You're fine," You replied as you sniffled, laughing once again as you shook your head, "I understand. I'm sorry. You shouldn't have seen that." You sighed as you stood onto shaky knees, gripping your toothbrush before you scrubbed your mouth clean.

"How about-," He began slowly as he adjusted your pajama shirt, covering up your exposed skin as his eyes met yours in the mirror, "I run a bath for you. How does that sound?"

You paused as you spit into the sink, satisfied that you could only taste mint as you slowly stood to look at him again. You nodded your head, feeling a little shy suddenly as he guided you upstairs.

His hand was warm in yours, strong as he held onto you tightly. Once you were inside the bathroom he got the water to the desired temperature before he slowly stripped you down.

His eyes still wandered, but not in a suggestive way. He admired you, making your heart thump roughly against your bones as he helped you into the tub.

You sank down into the water, sighing at the way the hot water massaged your tense muscles. Gator stood back for just a moment before he crawled in behind you.

He hummed softly before he pulled you back against him, pulling you close as he pressed his chest against your back. It was intimate, far more intimate than the times he'd been buried between your legs. You'd never had him be this sweet before, this caring.

You supposed your night wasn't all that bad after all.

[neufer]

Thoughts while listening to the cast recording again on my way back to school

Thinking soooo hard about the parallels between Darry and Ponyboy again. Darry had hopes and dreams once but now realizes he can’t have that (for now) and doesn’t see the point in hoping and dreaming (“What's the use of dreaming about a life I'll never know. That ship sailed long ago” - RITF reprise). Ponyboy of course is all about dreaming for something more. He looks around at his rough neighborhood and is not only able to dream about getting out but also still holds on to the belief that it’s possible (“But it's all there for the taking, just a leap of faith away” - FAFT). Really cool that towards the end of the story (at least in the book, I haven’t actually seen the musical) Ponyboy thinks that Darry has a bit of a different mindset, that he won’t stay in their neighborhood forever and won’t be a hood when he’s older (this is before the rumble). And then Pony says he’s going to be like Darry in that regard and I think it’s the sweetest thing ever.

On a similar note to parallels, one of my favorite parts of The Outsiders as a whole is the contrast between Johnny and Dally. Life has been so harsh to them both. The difference is Johnny doesn’t stand up to it like Dally can. It makes him scared and he kind of takes it lying down for the most part. On the other hand, it toughens Dally up. He fights back. But I realized something while listening today that made me really sad. Life has been unkind to them in similar ways, but Johnny has Ponyboy (“The reason I'm living is you. Wherever you go that's where I'll be. Even if death tags along, I don't mind. It's still you and me” - DAMD”) and Dally doesn’t really have a relationship like that with anyone else and it speaks volumes. I don’t know if I can say any more about it rn or else I’ll be too sad, but screw you thank you, SE Hinton, for writing such a freaking good contrast.

Can anyone tell me how Ponyboy is reunited with his brothers after the fire? I know that in previews they had the Curtis brothers hug during Hoods Turned Heroes but they changed that. Is there still some form of a reunion during that song? Is there any dialogue at all? I’ve never thought about it too much but now I’m curious.

I really like the subtle difference in the instrumentation/sound in Tulsa ‘67 and the Finale. The specific part I’m talking about is towards the end and kinda goes like “duh duh, duh duh, duh duh duh” (it was the sound that was used as transition music in the Call Me Cherry vlogs lmao). To me there’s a slight difference in how that sounds in the first song vs the last. In the Finale it somehow sounds more hopeful, more final. Like if you were to listen to both songs you could tell which was the opening and which was the closing just based off of that part alone. Idk if that makes sense, but it’s one of the many parts of the music that I think it’s really cool.

[glyphwrites]

Sub!Megatron and his sassy Dom Optimus discuss a scene

Have a precurser to smut that popped into my head today. I might end up writing the actual scene at some point, but I'm just way too busy rn. If i ever do, it'll go up on ao3 as a whole fic.

Despite the effects of the war and its aftermath, Megatron hadn’t had too much of a problem with his sex life. Though he couldn’t say he’d had a stable partner throughout that time, he had plenty of friends and admirers to spend time with, and left those encounters feeling perfectly satisfied.

However…

Personally, Megatron was a switch, enjoying practically any position and dynamic. There were a lot of mechs willing to let him dominate them, take control out of their servos and give them a fun time. But when it came to his own desire to be submissive, he simply didn't have the same range of options. Most Decepticons weren't comfortable with domming their leader, and those that were generally weren't interested in doing anything gentle. Which - a little rough play could be fun, but it wasn't Megatron's preference. That left his friends, where unfortunately the problem persisted. Shockwave would much rather follow his commands, Starscream had always focussed too much on degrading him, Straxus he didn't trust an inch and most of his other generals were uninterested. Strika was the only one he'd repeatedly fooled around with in that manner (technically Lugnut as well, but he was very firmly submissive), but even then they'd both been able to agree that they didn’t quite click. 

So life continued as before, Megatron feeling fairly satisfied with his various encounters but never quite completely fulfilled.

Then he met Optimus Prime. And, well, a lot of things happened. He died, for one thing. But after everything else that happened, after their squabbles were over and their alliance was solidified, Megatron had found himself falling for the mech… and eventually, falling into his berth. It had certainly been a whirlwind romance, especially considering how long it’d been since he’d had a proper partner. Once flirtations and teasing had become something more serious, and after their first few tumbles, they’d inevitably begun to talk about what they wanted from their strange new relationship. Megatron had laid out his own preferences easily, before revealing how he identified as a switch with some hesitance. He’d so wanted things to work out, wary of turning Optimus away at the thought of him desiring submission.

Megatron still remembered the grin that had spread across Optimus’ face, like the sun coming up. “Hey, that’s perfect! So am I.” Not for an instant had Optimus judged him; in fact, he’d been quite excited discussing their very first proper scene together, and just as enthusiastic carrying it out.

It’d been the best submissive experience of Megatron’s life.

He could still remember lying in berth together afterward, Optimus running a cloth laden with polish across his heated plating. Right there and then, he’d vowed to repeat the experience as often as he possibly could.

And life had gone on.

---------------------------------------------------

Once again, it’d been a long day filled with meetings, forms and petty squabble between his officers. Megatron had headed straight for his quarters the instant the last meeting finished, eager to sit with a cube of warm energon and perhaps a datapad as he decompressed. Instead, when he arrived he found that Optimus had beat him back to their shared rooms, and was now doing something with a selection of boxes on the coffee table. He glanced up as the door closed, flashing a smile at Megatron as he entered. To Megatron’s optics, his partner looked distinctly dishevelled in the way that usually implied he’d been working with his servos again. Although Optimus’ job description now mostly covered tactical analysis,  organising military logistics and fighting on the battlefield, he still often seemed to find some kind of job or task that required building things or tinkering with the guts of a spacebridge. At this point it was so frequent as to be ubiquitous, and Megatron wasn’t even that surprised at the sight.

“How was your day? I thought you’d be kept a little longer, to be honest.” Optimus straightened from his work, hopping over the scattered boxes on his way over to the door.

Megatron couldn’t help but smile at the sight, his worries melting away for the time being as he bent down to answer Optimus with a kiss. “It was perfectly fine, though you’re quite right; I managed to weasel out of my last meeting a little earlier than usual.”

Optimus laughed, slinging his arms around Megatron’s neck and kissing him back. “Well, that’s good to hear!” They stayed in the doorway for a few minutes longer, holding each other close. Megatron delighted in pressing Optimus against him, feeling his spark thrumming through his plating. 

When at last they broke apart again, Megatron glanced back at the chaos in the centre of their living area and couldn’t help but ask about it. “Are you building us some new furniture?” Optimus generally preferred to mess with machines, but he wasn’t that discerning with his projects.

“Oh! Not quite…” Optimus pulled away a little, looking from Megatron to the boxes and then back away. He smirked, teasing and smug in equal parts as he placed his servos on Megatron’s chassis “Actually, I’ve got something special for you.” He grinned up at Megatron for a moment longer, before pausing and tacking on another few sentences in a hurry. “Only if you're up for it, of course! I know it’s been a long day.”

It had in fact been a long day. But something about Optimus filled him with energy, and now Megatron couldn’t imagine a better way to spend his evening. “That sounds exciting.” He replied, catching Optimus to kiss again. “I’d certainly be happy to find out.”

The answering grin practically lit up the room. Optimus skipped back over to the table while Megatron followed at a more sedate pace, although he felt just as eager. Digging into one of the boxes, Optimus retrieved what appeared to be… a coil of braided wire? It shone in the light, iridescence glimmering as he turned it. He offered it to Megatron, who lifted and examined it carefully.

Thanks to his past exploits, Megatron had a fairly good idea of what this was. “Planning to tie me up?” He tested the shining rope between his digits, and frowned. “It’s certainly pretty, but it doesn’t look very strong.” He turned it over for a moment longer, before catching sight of the way Optimus was gesturing to him and handing the coil back.

And then Optimus grinned impishly, taking the end of the braided wire and wrapping it around his other servo, pulling it tight between them. “That’s the point!” 

Something about that mischievous grin, that cocky tone of voice, that confident stance… it did things to Megatron. He swallowed lightly, unable to move as Optimus stepped closer, giving him an evaluating look as he wound the rope between his servos. “So, here’s the deal.” Optimus was right up in his face now, so close that their chassis were touching. “I’m going to tie you up and play with you.” His tone was utterly matter of fact now, but it still did plenty to excite Megatron. He liked the way Optimus managed to dominate him despite their differences in size and age, the confident way he ordered Megatron around. Optimus pressed one servo to his chassis, drawing a circle over his spark. “All you have to do is enjoy yourself… and not break it.” He smirked even wider. “Think you can manage it?”

That was one of the other things he liked about Optimus’ style, the way he challenged Megatron. Composing himself, he leaned down, matching Optimus’ smirk despite the way his spark burned with excitement. “I dare say I’m up to the task.”

[visceral-reject]

Forelsket

(n) the euphoria experience when you first fall in love 

Okay so its not the best, Benadryl making life hard rn TvT

Word count: 3400

TW: It’s HABIT cmon nw, dubcon, he kinda breaks in????? Dom/sub undertones but never stated outright, breeding kind kinda, my bad writing while im sick.

Haven’t wrote smut for a while so this will probably be re-written when Im in my right mind

The taste of you was heavy on his tongue, so much so that every word, every breath was you, and only you. 

Balance. That's what the universe needs, enforced. A never-ending balance that no one, not ever the strongest or oldest of Entities challenged. Where there was light, there shall be dark and vice versa. Habit hated it. He hated seeing people heal, he hated seeing a familiar iridescent form from the corner of his eye. It was a never ending cycle; Habit would bring some undeserved wrath to some poor mortal unfortunate enough to have caught his eye, or maybe it was his hatred for the Slender Man that that pushed him, but nonetheless he’d drag out some unnecessary,torturous game that only he finds entertaining, and there you’d be. When Habit was created, born of hate and trickery; you were also brought forth. A being of an oh so tender light that even he could only stare in a curious awe. You were his balance, always there to counteract whatever damage he’d done. Habit hated you for a while, avoiding you for the longest, trying to reverse whatever you did; and for a while those feelings were mutual. You, still young and naive, believed that this was some kind of sick punishment that you’d somehow earned yourself in the brief moments you’d met the creators. Fos, your creator, a being of an eternal, cold light, caressed your cheek and sent you on your way, giving you favored blessings and best wishes. You were a favorite, a purer being that they’d created to serve as a buffer; sometimes you’d wish you weren’t. Habits, well habits made you sick. He’d toy with mortals like he was a creator himself,a god. And you’d mess with him back all the same, pulling his horn like appendages, calling him out on his name; a constant back and forth you'd both soon tire of.

“ You think you’re so much better than I, don’t you, pretty? “ his voice, rough and condescending, questioned, his many eyes all gazing down at you. 

“ Of course I do, mutt. I am better. ‘ You hated this man, if he even was one. It didn’t matter how many times you changed your form, he’d always make it his mission to make you feel small, weak. You couldn’t take much more after the Dark Ages, too much suffering and not enough time to fix it. You, and your brethren failed for many, many years. Fos, in all their luminal glory, felt pity upon you all, and gave most of you the sanctuary you needed to regain the lost energy and strength you’d lost during the seemingly endless wars and revolutions. It had been 798 years to be exact, and many things changed since that day. Ligo Fos, as your kind had come to be called, were ridded of your old appearances, no matter the differencing in forms. The small, branch like ‘horns’ fell, and your skin became soft, many ranges of colors that still felt limiting. 

‘ We must cater to the mortals, my dear children. ‘ Fos's voice was caring, yet stern. The Creator willed it, so as dutiful servants you must obey, lest you want to be repurposed. It would be alright. 

Time skip

Ligos Fos, elusive creatures known to heal the sick and punish the guilty. Beings of a light so bright that only artists can gaze upon. All these titles boosted your ego. Mortals viewed anything they didn’t understand as a higher being. They viewed your blessings as some mystical power that was your own. Laughable. 

As the sun rose and fell, you spent your days following your hellish counterpart. Trailing behind him wherever he went, fixing his wrongs. It was the late 90s when he caught on. Habit would flick his eyes to your hidden location and smile a cruel,twisted smirk that had only gotten worse than you remember it. Habit had changed, he wasn't a twiggy, short thing made of the darkest ink anymore. He’d grown into what mortals called a ‘man’. He’d taken on a vessel of sorts. A human man, barely reaching 19 summers at this point. You had to admit, he would be attractive once he grew into his looks. This ‘highschool’ and ‘college’ would be stressful, and human hormones would fluctuate often. Habit, or Evan, as he’d been calling himself nowadays, was almost dog-like, always chasing down something he shouldn’t, getting overly excited, etc. etc. His antics were cute to you, making you forget that this wasn’t this Evan person, whoever he was. This was Habit, your Habit. The same creature that mocked you, pulled at your cheeks until they were sore, muddied your outerwear. You felt pity for whoever Evan was, because you knew well enough that he was gone, his body nothing more than a husk for Habit to use and bend until it broke. For three years you did this, slowly getting closer and closer to the thing you’d been made with. Forced a bond in which you didn’t know how to work with or use in any way. 

For the longest it was awkward to say the least. Habit wanted nothing more than to make your life a living hell, doing the most trivial things to irk your nerves for the sake of it. 

“ Your cheeks puff up when you get upset, pretty. Did I upset the pretty dove? Ruffle your feathers? “ he, Evan, all but cackled his rough hands cupping your jaw. You were sure you hated him, but even you, in all your prideful ways, had to admit he was attractive. You scoffed at his statement, retreating out the door, your feet stomping angrily. He’d never let you live this down. Habit would call you brattish, daring you to object and ‘prove his point’; yet some part of you wanted that. A part of you that thought about the young man in facetious ways. Ways that would leave a damp spot in your panties. You suppressed these urges for the longest. Fos found it funny when you consulted them, thinking you were defective, broken. One had to admit, you’ve always been a theatrical type. Fos explained you were mature now, one of the first of their creations to fully mature actually; something that had you preening for a while. Fos sent you back to the mortal realm, with no instructions other than to get used to these urges, for they wouldn’t end now that they’ve started. And stars above they weren't wrong about that one bit. During the early months of spring you suffered. Your lower abdomen ached and your fingers didn’t provide you the relief you needed. After you found out about toys, they only satisfied you for about a year in total. By now, your ‘heats’ had begun to hurt progressively more. 

  ➞break

Habit knew something felt wrong. He felt something gnawing at the pit of his stomach, or a nagging voice in the back of the endless void he called a mind. Then it clicked for him. It was the turning of the seasons. Spring was approaching and he’d forgotten about it.. Habit mentally cursed himself. Quickly bringing the phone to cancel any and all plans or work he may have had the next week and a half. Sure his pockets would hurt for a while but he’d manage. After the first few days he began to feel the effects of his upcoming rut, and something told him it would be bad. His urge to nest and hoard was already something when he wasn’t being pumped full of unwanted hormones, but now? Now he’d be growling at air if he felt his space was being threatened. He’d spend his days shirtless, a pair of sweatpants hung loosely around his waist; a thin layer of sweat covered his body as he fanned himself. Habit’s house was on the verge of freezing, yet he still panted like a dog. What made it so much worse was that his cock ached, the tip a hot red now from past abuse and Habit still wasn’t satisfied. By now he was pushing 21 summers, well the vessel was anyways;  many of the entities Habit had familiarized himself with in the past now sired many cherub faced cambions, hell, a good many knocked up the Ligos they’d been balanced with when they were created alongside. One acquaintance spoke of how pretty her Ligos looked underneath her. Habit’s mind slowly drifted towards the idea of you, and how you’d look beneath his, whining and begging for him to fuck his cum back into your soaked hole, or maybe you’d beg him to stop, tell him you hated him and that he was lucky to even be this close to you in the first place. Habit laughed at the last thought, his cock twitched as he palmed himself through his pants. He’d have you. He needed to have the pleasure of seeing such an elusive, prideful creature reduced to a whimpering, blubbering mess below him, your voice cracking and begging for him to slow down, begging him to breed you. The mere thought of shooting his cum down your sopping hole made a guttural groan leave his throat as he continued to palm himself through his sweatpants. He ached for you, longed for you.

       -with you-

The empty feeling in your stomach was enough to make you whine. As much as you adored your Creator, they did little to help ease the tightness. Your hand was buried between your thighs, fingers soaked with your cum, and yet it still wasn’t enough. You needed something more than just your fingers and toys; you’d brought yourself to orgasm after fucking orgasm and yet you still felt wrong. Your body was slick with sweat at this point, the scent of sex heavy in the air around you. As you bit on the now clipped fingernail, listening to the rain outside the small glass window, sometimes you’d like to think that your savior would waltz out of the treeline to solve all your problems; you’d laugh at the childish thoughts then. Now you wish they would. You continued your daydreaming, oblivious to the creaking floorboards. You smelt him before you saw him. He smelt like teakwood and fire; he smelt like home, safety. 

‘ Habit. ‘ your voice croaked, hoarse from the screaming and whining you’ve done. Habit laughed, his voice gravelly as he continued. 

‘ So this is what my little starlight does in her freetime? Stuffing her cunt like whore? ‘ 

Habit laughed as he kicked himself off the doorframe to stalk closer to your now shaking body. You weren’t scared, but the anticipation, the adrenaline. You could taste it, it was addicting, for once in your life you allowed yourself to become addicted to it. Dark eyes raked across your body, taking note of how your nightwear clung to your sweat covered skin. You looked absolutely delectable like this, and you didn’t even know. Habit was an impatient being already, but what little patience he had left was thinning, the last string so close to popping before he allowed those urges he’d taken so long to suppress. The scent of sex made Habit lick his lips as he crawled atop you, muscles tense as his hands pulled at your sheets. Habit trailed open mouthed kissed down your neck and throat, leaving a trail of bites in his wake, hickeys would be a pain in the ass to cover tomorrow, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about the past resentment you had for this man, you didn’t care about the past teasing, arguments. Anything. All that mattered right now was him. 

Then he stopped, and gods above you wanted to tear his throat out. 

“ Tell me to stop dove. “ Habit’s voice was hushed, raspy even. He wanted you to tell him to stop, tell him to go fuck himself, find some cheap whore he could dispose of after he was done with them. He wanted you to tell him to go to hell, you weren’t like him, but yet here you were, shoving your head to the side, begging him not to stop. Your thighs pushed apart to fit his body against yours. To Habit, you didn’t want him to stop, no you wanted him to ruin you for anyone else, to leave an imprint of himself on your soul. A guttural growl left Habit’s throat as he bit down on your throat, a hand moving to grip your jaw. 

“ I told you to do something starlight, " the man spoke through gritted teeth, a cruel smile etching its way onto his face. Your eyes locked with his, dark eyes a flurry of emotions. Lust. Need. Somethings else you couldn’t name. To think you’re relearning each other after so long apart, and yet he still remembered which parts made you weak. A smile etched itself on your features just when you settled your hand against Habit’s that still lay resting on your jaw. When you turned your head to gently kiss his palm. 

“ If I wanted you to stop, I would've made you a while ago, Habit. '' your voice was muffled in his palm. “ And right now, I want you to ruin me. “ Habit’s eyes darkened at your words, pulling your hips closer to his, you almost whined at the feeling of his cock through the material of his pants. Habit’s lips were heavy against yours as he dragged his hands down your body, pawing at any exposed flesh he could feel, your soft nightwear being pushed out of the way for his preying hands to feel for more. You felt whole. His touch was electric, leaving sparks wherever his hands found sanctuary. Habit liked toying with his prey, feeding off their fear, their tears; and you were no exception. He’d tease, he’d edge if that's what it took for you to break before him. How long would you last? How long before you were fucked dumb? To braindead to speak coherent sentences? He’d find out. He’d find out if it took him all night and the next day. Habit’s hand slowly found itself between your thighs, the damp spot in your panties making him chuckle. His lips found your throat once again as his fingers traced your slit, gathering up your slick on his fingers before pushing them into your soaked hole. A breathy whine leaving you lips, eyes closing as your head lolled back into your pillow. Habit’s pace was slow, his fingers curling deliciously at that spot that made you want to scream. He wanted you to beg, to put your pride aside and ask him for your release that you craved so desperately. Maybe he’d be nice, maybe he’d set aside his usual cruelty and sadistic want and just give you what you wanted for once! 

“ Fat chance, pretty! Tell me what I want and then you can cum.” Habit was a bastard, he wouldn’t give anybody anything for free, what made you any different. And you gave in. You begged, borderline screamed pleas for him to just let you come undone, the familiar tightness in your stomach threatening to pop; but he didn’t allow it. Habit pried his fingers from your cunt and brought them to his lip. The sight was erotic, taboo. Watching him lick your slick off his fingers made your thighs close, or at least attempt to. Habit groaned and threw his head back, eyes closed as the corners of his mouth made a lopsided grin. “ Gods you taste better than I imagine dove. “ he voiced his praise, your cheeks felt hot as you averted your eyes. “ Please…” a weak plea left your lips. It was almost laughable to Habit, you were throwing a tantrum all because he wouldn’t let you get off? Cute, but he’d be nice just this once. His cock was painfully hard at this point, the tip a burning red as he pulled his pants down just enough to free his member. Your mouth practically watered at the sight, but there’d be another time you’d get to suck him dry. Your panties had long since been discarded, the fabric laying in tattered shreds on your floor somewhere alongside the promise to buy you more. You squirmed, trying to find any friction you could but Habit’s firm hands kept you still, his fingers sure to leave bruises with his grip on your hips. “ No no pretty, tell me what you want. “ he chided, a sadistic grin on his face. His hair clung to his forehead, a sheen of sweat coating his body as his muscles tensed. He was holding back, waiting for those words to fall out of your mouth, and gods was it worth the wait. “ Please gods! Please just fuck me Habit! Use me! I don’t care just let me cum-” your sentence was cut short as Habit thrusted his cock into you without so much as a warning, tears pricking your eyes from the sudan intrusion. Something between a growl and groan left the man’s throat. Your warmth sucked him in. Habit gave you a brief moment to adjust before his pace was quickened, his grip on your hips bruising as your back arched. His intent was to breed you, mark your insides as his. You were his. His to hold, his to kiss, his to breed. The thought of you round with his children made his cock twitch. You’d be such a good mother, such a doting mate. Your sweet sounds filled his ears, urging him on. Habit was running on pure instinct at that moment, no words were spoken between you two, because they didn’t need to be. A hand left your hip to press on your stomach, a toothy smile on his face as he leaned down to kiss away the stray tears that fell from your eyes. You looked so pretty, all fucked out, dazed, and all from his cock. “ Aw is my little dove all fucked out? To dumb on cock to speak now? “ Habit cackled as he left soft slaps to your cheek, and all you could do was nod. Your brain long fried as he fucked his cock into you. Gargled pleas left your lips, yet you didn’t know what you were begging for at this point. For him to stop? Fuck you harder? He didn’t care, all Habit cared about was fucking you full of his kids. Habit groaned as your cunt squeezed his cock, a rough smack landed on your thigh making you jump. His dark eyes met yours as he hissed out a threat “ You better not fucking cum yet. Not until I say so. “. He left no room for objection, so all you could do was whine and take it, cunt fluttering around his cock as he mixed degrading words with his filthy praises. A high-pitched whine left your throat as you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, digging your nails into his flesh and burying your face into his shoulder; your pleas falling on deaf ears. You begged, cried, pleaded for Habit to just let you cum, that you’d do anything. Habit’s voice was hoarse as he laughed, a grunt heaved from his throat. 

Your vision turned white as you came. It took a few moments to come back to your senses and even then they were fried. Everything felt fuzzy almost, hazy. Habit, panting and showering you with sloppy kisses and half-formed praises lay on top of you. His weight was nice, you felt protected and warm. “ You’ll be such a good little mate won’t you? “ he grinned, wiping the stray hairs from your forehead before planting a kiss on it. “ Such a good mother too? Maybe I’ll just keep you plugged so it takes? You’d like that wouldn’t you pretty? You want to make me happy don’t you? Yeah, you do. “ His voice was background noise to you at this point, but his words made you smile. You felt whole, full. No longer longing for something you couldn’t have or couldn’t reach. Habit hummed as he stroked your face, watching you doze every now and then. You’d keep him happy enough for now. And busy.

 “ Oh don’t think I’m done yet, starlight, I’m just gracious enough to give you a break! Say thank you, why don’t you? “ 

[lonelychicago]

hi i’m super nosy and was wondering if you could explain the 1d guy drama happening rn

oh oh anon there's SO much tea!!!

okay so i think all of this started when liam did this podcast with logan paul i think??? one of the paul brothers anyway. same thing.

ANYWAY. on that podcast he was drinking and being all... kind of talking hinself up a lot?? like, he said simon made 1d around HIM. and like he was supposed to be the frontman, the "leader" of 1d. he said that simon made 1d FOR him, like bc of a promise he made liam when he forst auditioned for the x factor. (all of this is a lie, simon didn't even formed 1d. other judge did!!!)

and anyway. the podcast was.... rough to listen to. but at one moment he told this story about something that happened during the 1d days. he said there was a fight backstage and that one member pushed him against the wall, and he said. HE SAID AND I QUOTE— "if you don't remove those hands, there's a high likelihood you won't ever use them again." KAJSJSJSJJSJSJ. (me personally i think he's talking shit and don't believe he said that at all but whatever.)

i digress. the thing is that since then it's been something everyone wondered about. like WHICH 1d member pushed him against the wall. a lot of ppl said harry, louis or zayn. (niall was never am option lmao) and it's been like a really discussed topic I'd say(??

so TODAY maya henry (liam's ex gf who also wrote a book where she tells how abusive he was to her) posted a tik tok today saying like: it was zayn guys. it was ZAYN. here's the tik tok in question.

so then ofc all the liam stans went for her throat and like complained that she was riding liam's fame. (like, WHAT fame girl, he is the least revelant 1d boy but whatever.)

so maya was like, okay bet. and basically did a 10 min tik tok exposing liam. she told how he wñuld say things like "we can do whatever we want, because the fans will always have our back and defend us." and basically like, no one will believe YOU. and also she said how he's constantly harrassing her and sending her and her family and friends messages, even though he has a gf now.

ALSO ALSO. that he shit talked the boys but then showed up at their concerts. so far he's been to argentina TWICE. once in may 18th for louis' concert, where he posted himself singing where do broken hearts go and also was photographed with one of louis' hoodies. and i think it was this week??? or maybe last week that was niall's concert. AND LET ME TELL U IT WAS SO CRINGY AND HARD TO WATCH. like he posted on snaptchat that "he had things to talk with niall, nothing bad!!! but they had A LOT to talk about" and that's why he was going to argentina. and also like danced macarena at the VIP balcony before niall was out on stage AND ignored a bodyguard when he tried to stop liam, because he was calling so much attention to himself that the fans were pushing each other and crowding and it was genuinely becoming a safety issue.

here's the longer tik tok woth all of the tea!!

[moltensmusings]

Ok there’s this fic I read where Lucy doesn’t do the s class trials because she becomes the temporary guild master and it’s her building relationships with other characters and making sure Fairytail doesn’t fall behind and I was wondering how that would work in your redesign and rewrite of Fairytail? I think it would make her and Juvia closer and allowing her to become more confident in herself as a mage and leader! (Also jellal is in that fic and it’s so cool how the two interact and it gave jude a redemption arc)

So short of it: within my rewrite it wouldn't fit, but that doesn't mean it's not an interesting concept to explore!

Longer explanation, starting with why i'd keep lucy not staying behind and also explaining how it would effect her dynamic with Juvia if she did stay behind:

while it's been years since I watched Tenrou Island, so much happens in that arc that I feel Lucy being absent would make it feel incomplete. Mashima isn't the best at showing it but she is the main character and should he present for canon major events that happen throughout the show timeline.

I really loved seeing her bond with Cana and I think the tragedy of her being just barely too late to see her father again was one of the few heavy plot points we got that actually made me emotional (shocker most of those moments happened when lucy got actual focus.) I also like the idea of us getting a fair bit of chapters showing the people that stayed behind and what was going on with them to lead up to the tenrou crew returning. So I think not having major players for a bit of the series to allow the side cast to shine would be really cool.

That said: how would lucy staying behind and eventually taking over as guild master change things in my opinion. I think we'd see Lucy bonding with a lot of characters she has minimal interaction with. Macao being one as he'd no doubt be the one to acknowledge her skill and potiential. Since Lucy is so young even in canon I don't think she'd actually get the role for a few years. She'd have a proving stage where she showcases her skills and gains the guilds trust as an authority.

For juvia, I've always imagined Lucy was one of the people who encouraged Juvia to befriend Droy, getting him to teach her about plants as a hobby which leads to Juvia joining shadowgear. I could see Lucy actually kind of integrating into shadowgear in the absence of her normal team and running missions with them to both improve her abilities and help people. They started out on very rough terms due to Juvia's obsession with Gray, but with Juvia actively working to change herself and figure out things she enjoyed, I think Lucy's friendly nature and incredibly supportive attitude when it comes to creativity would've lead to a strong friendship and trust forming. Lucy likely being the first person Juvia makes something for.

Now I can't really speak on jellal because it has been a hot minute since I watched any of his arcs and I honestly just kind of thought he was so-so as a teenager (no hate, just wasnt personally for me. Its one of the reasons im lacking in content for him rn 😔). But I do know he really was lacking in interactions with anyone on team natsu outside of Erza, so him and Lucy would be very interesting to see unfold.

All in all fun idea to play around with but within how I imagine canon not for me.

Thank you for the question and I hope this answered things for you!

[fictionkinfessions]

so this Book Of Bill thing came out I guess and now there's a billion Gravity Falls kins crawling out of the woodwork rn; that's fine, that's cool

lots of people are gonna find out they don't like Bill, that's also fine. I'm a villainkin, I'm aware people aren't gonna like...that.

but what little context I've gotten through the book about Bill's backstory is very rough. it makes me sad. and I feel really bad asking for some form of comfort or something; like...nobody wants to hear or see anything from me because I'm Bill, so I guess I'll just suck it up

I never thought about those kinds of things before now. now that they're literally everywhere, I can't stop thinking about them. how am I supposed to not feel upset all the time now?

-a lonely dorito god

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